Limos
by The Smashlee
Summary: Everyone knew that Uchiha Sasuke was a stubborn perfectionist even at the worst of times. Naruto knows better. AU, one-shot, shounen-ai. NaruSasu. Repost due to errors.


**A/N:** This is set roughly 8 months to a year before Leptos. It is considered to be in the Leptos universe but I suppose it can also be read as a standalone. It is **completely pointless** in itself as a standalone, but has a purpose in the Leptos universe. Its function is to pretty much serve as a comparison for Mentallyill!Sasuke and how distorted his mind is, to how it used to be. And how certain attributes can lead to this sort of thing. Something just to fill in some gaps. But still, quite pointless.

**Warnings**: It is a one-shot, contains shounen-ai, probable OOC-ness, abruptness and has fluff. Fluff is good for the soul. And lastly, it is still painfully unbeta'd.

* * *

**Līmos**

_A snapshot of day in the life of Sasuke and Naruto._

Pulling up in the driveway, I parked the car in front of the garage and pulled the keys out of the ignition. Grabbing my school bag from the back seat I got out of the car and locked it. I looked over at the blonde to make sure he was following me and hadn't wandered off somewhere. Like, a curious dog he had a tendency follow his nose and go missing in the blink of an eye. But not today – we were on _schedule_.

Making my over to my front door, I fished my keys out of my pocket and unlocked it. I threw my keys on the stand (hoping it landed in the key bowl) as I made my way inside. I removed my shoes, placing them neatly at the front door, pointedly ignoring Narutos sneakers haphazardly strewn across the doormat, and placed my bag against the wall.

"You got anything to eat?" asked Naruto, overtaking me to walk in the direction of the kitchen. I rolled my eyes at the bottomless pit that was Naruto's stomach; having no doubt that one day he would eat me out of house and home. If there was one thing about Naruto that was predictable it was his appetite.

"There's no ramen if that's what you mean," I called over to him, smirking as I heard him groan.

"What about - "

"No two-minute noodles either," I interrupted. Pulling back a stool I seated myself at the kitchen bench, and rested an elbow on the dark granite bench top. I watched on in amusement as Naruto twisted his mouth in thought, suddenly serious.

"Why not?" he finally asked moments later, sounding slightly offended. What for? I was doing him a favour.

I frowned at the obviously stupid question. "Because that quick-and-easy shit is terrible."

Naruto narrowed his eyes at me in mock outrage. "Blasphemer!" he cried and turned to my pantry, swinging the double-doors wide open. "I think you do it on purpose," he joked, his voice echoing slightly as he stuck his head deep into a shelf. I didn't really know what he was looking for but I rolled my eyes all the same, propping up my arm and placing my chin on my hand. With my free hand I rubbed my temple at the slight ache that had began to throb behind there. A headache. With caution I could probably keep it under control. Probably. They were unpredictable, troublesome and seemed to have a vendetta against me.

"Yes, my kitchen and I are out to get you," I replied, sarcasm lacing my voice. "Moron."

Untangling his upper body from my pantry empty handed, the hungry teen turned to look and me.

"What about pizza?"

"What about it?" I asked. Watching him pout and furrow his eyebrow I couldn't help but feel a small bit of enjoyment bubble in my stomach as I watched the other get annoyed at my difficulty. He was so very easy to rile up. If he wanted to raid my kitchen he'd have to work for it.

"Let's order some," he replied, ignoring my deliberate attempts to annoy him – to annoy me-, putting his hands over his stomach and grabbing his white school shirt as if to emphasize the "_serious_" degree of his hunger. I sighed. Take-out pizza was terrible too. Marginally better than instant ramen, but still, terrible.

"Do you have any _money_…?" I baited, knowing full well that he probably didn't. Naruto frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning one hip on the other side of island I was sitting at.

"Well no…" he replied, slowly, almost bashfully, blue eyes downcast.

"Do I _look_ like your ATM?" I asked, mimicking his slow tone I raising an eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest. "I take it that you still haven't apologized to your boss?" I continued. About a fortnight ago there had been an…_incident_ at the restaurant, which Naruto had been working at, that resulted in a soy sauce laden tofu steak being thrown at his new manager. Ever since said Incident and despite many arguments, Naruto refused to apologize to New Manager, and wasn't getting paid. Broke Naruto was proving to be rather irritating.

Naruto bristled at the memory. "Well what do you expect? I don't break my back working eight-hour shifts, 5 times a week, to have some _newbie in a belly shirt_ tell me that I have no penis!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the stone. The Incident was clearly still a sore spot on Naruto's larger-than-life pride.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead discreetly, making it seem as if I was brushing my hair away from my eyes, trying to ease some of the pain that remained. Loud voice plus echoes equaled a worsening headache. I'm sure I wouldn't appreciate having my manhood insulted either but honestly…

"We'll make some, alright?" I compromised, trying to appease the blonde fool. It wasn't that I didn't like pizza – _what red-blooded human didn't?_ – I just didn't like the grease heavy, meat infested pizza that some 15 year old with pus-leaking pimples that worked minimum wage cooked up. I had been cooking for myself and Itachi for so long that I had come to prefer – _trust_ - my own cooking. At least I knew it was going in there. Call me paranoid, I am.

Seeing Naruto nod at my deal, I got up from the stool, wiped invisible dust from my gray school pants and went to the pantry. Reaching in I took out a packet of large pita bread wraps and tomato paste. Moving over to the fridge, I quickly searched for the leftover shredded mozzarella I had used a few nights ago – _there it is_- and grabbed it, chucking it on the bench behind me. I was glad that he'd agreed, really. Pre-exam week was stressful enough without our pedantic arguments.

"Do you want ham?" I asked the blonde, who had taken the job of dishing out a baking tray from one of the cupboards.

"Yeah. " He closing the cupboard and put the tray on the bench.

Looking back inside the fridge, I tried to ignore the incessant _beep beep_ noise that came from the side, telling me that I'd left the fridge open too long. Locating the sliced dead animal I grabbed it by its plastic wrappings and closed the beeping food storage box.

Taking 3 of the large pita wraps from its packet, I laid each out flat on the cooking tray. Taking the tube of tomato paste I squeezed liberal amounts of the red gunk on each circle of bread.

"Spoon," I ordered, reaching out a hand in the general direction of the blonde. Hearing the cutlery draw slide open, followed by an irritating chorus of clanking silver, a cold spoon was shoved hastily into my palm. Naruto knew better than to complain when I commandeered him when cooking. The kitchen was my domain. Everything had a place and purpose – including the people in it. Like a surgeon with a scalpel, I took my cuisine seriously.

"Whose the third one for?"

"Itachi," I replied. He wasn't here at the moment but I thought I might as well make him some dinner he can re-heat after work if I was doing it now. I did nearly all the cooking in the home. Itachi worked hard with a full-time job. The last thing he needed was to coming home from a stressful day at work to have to cook over a hot stove. Like most teenagers I could be self-absorbed, but I knew that this was at least something I was useful for.

The only thing we had inherited from our parents when they died was our house – in which we were lucky there was no outstanding mortgage**. **But bills still needed to be paid. Gas, electricity, water, Internet – these things were a constant and they didn't pay themselves. We were by no means _poor_ but we weren't driving around in Lamborghini's either. Hence the need for at least one of us to work while I was finishing my schooling.

Spreading the paste around the pita breads evenly with the cutlery, I saw Naruto try to stealthily dip a pinky finger in the spread sauce in what he thought was out of my peripheral vision. Gripping the spoon, I swiftly rapped him hard over the knuckles and glared at him when he looked up at me, pouting like a child. That wasn't going to work. Who knew where his fingers had been? Naruto was not the cleanest person I knew. Neither was I for that matter, but food was a different category all together.

"Don't be such an animal," I reprimanded him; giving him another glare that said that I wasn't going to give in. Once he realized his innocent expression had no effect he returned the glare.

"Yeah, yeah. Mother."

"Pig," I threw back. The insult held no heat, but I still meant it. What's worse is that Naruto probably _knew_ that and somehow would find it funny and/or part of a game. That's just the way we were I guess. Constantly assaulting the other with insults and jibes, trying to outdo, outwit the other. It was all in the name of rivalry, rather than nastiness of course. Well, most of the time.

Spreading the shredded cheese over the three pizza's-in-process and adding extra to Naruto's (because I knew how overly-cheesy he liked it), adding the ham to Itachi's and Naruto's, and a final layer of cheese, I was done.

Putting it in the oven (that I'd forgotten to pre-heat but that was okay), turning it to an acceptable temperature, I washed my hands and checked the clock. Wiping my wet hands on a tea towel I looked over to the blonde idiot.

He was eating a remaining piece of ham slowly. Feeling my stare on him, he looked over to me, pretending to be surprised and embarrassed that he'd been caught out snacking before a meal. Extending the hand with the ham out, he feigned shame.

"Oh _I'm sorry_ Sasuke, did you want some?" he asked, innocently, a grin threatening to split his mouth. I glowered and threw the towel at him, feeling satisfaction when it hit his face. The joke was too old for me to feel any real annoyance over it, but I still let him know that I was _not_ amused either way.

Ever since I had become a vegetarian 4 years ago I was met with Naruto's never-ending crusade to have me eat meat again. Although _most_ of it was in jest, he couldn't seem to grasp how someone could just _not_ eat animal carcass. It had annoyed me to no end at the beginning, but I'd learnt to ignore it.

Many a time had I suffered the usual ignorant _"We were meant to eat it!" _or _"You're going to make yourself sick!" _comments. Pure ignorance. Over the past 4 years never had my iron, B12 or any levels under concern fallen into an unhealthy state. Since stopping eating meat I'd never felt better in my life.

"Sorry, sorry," the blonde apologized, not looking at all sorry with a grin spread over his face, white teeth looking as if they were holding back a laugh. Yes, truly hilarious. Looking up at the clock I saw the pizzas only had a few minutes left to go. That was the beauty of this recipe. It was quick and easy to make, healthier than the crap you paid some idiot to take 45 minutes to deliver to you, and took no time at all to cook.

I raised an uncaring eyebrow as his faux apology and started cleaning up the mess I'd made. By the time I was done and had gotten plates out for the both of us, the pizzas were ready. Leaving Itachi's in the oven for him to reheat later, I served ours up and cut them into eighths. Slinging my bag over my shoulder I grabbed my plate and headed out of the kitchen. Hearing Naruto do the same I went towards the staircase and climbed up to my room.

Opening my door, I placed my stuff at my desk, putting my plate somewhere where it wouldn't easily be knocked over, and fished out my glasses case from my school bag. Finding his usual spot on the floor more comfortable, Naruto sat on the pale carpet and began digging into his meal. Sliding square, black-rimmed frame onto my nose, I tried not to cringe at the faint sound of slurping. How does one even _slurp_ cheese?

Watching the tanned teen with distaste as he somehow managed to get sauce on his cheek and chin I wondered vaguely if I should get him a bib. I pushed it out of my mind before I lost my appetite and turned to my own food.

"Hey Sasuke, this is really good!" Naruto exclaimed, thankfully having the decency to swallow his food before speaking. At least he wasn't a total plebian. I felt my pride swell up a bit at the praise – it wasn't often someone would say something like that to me about my cooking. I never really got to cook for anyone but Itachi and myself. Quickly burying the delight before it showed on my face I nodded in thanks and reached for my textbook to my right. It wasn't just the food though. Naruto was too sincere and when he complimented someone he meant it. I felt an embarrassing sort of gladness for being on the receiving end of that earnestness. As if I'd ever tell the man-pig that though. His ego was large enough as it is.

I opened the heavy textbook to the 10th chapter and set my mind on studying hard and disregarding the sharp pain in my head. Looking over to the title in bright red letters I sighed – _Visual Perception_. Joy.

* * *

One hour later, and 1 and half chapters down – _3 and a half more to go_- I rubbed my forehead tenderly hoping to ease the agonizing throbbing that had refused to cease. Despite my attempts at ignoring it, it had steadily worsened as I concentrated on my studies. I silently cursed my head for being uncooperative. Study – headache. Don't study – fail. Useless brain.

"What's up?" asked Naruto, looking up from his page to look at me, raising an eyebrow.

"Migraine." I grunted, the sound of my own voice causing greater discomfort to my sensitive ears. The pain threatening to split my head into two intensified and the ability to concentrate was slipping further and further away with each external sound pounding at my skull like a sledgehammer. I wanted nothing more than to lie down in a dark and noiseless room with a couple of aspirin before the nausea hit but I _had_ to finish reading this chapter. I couldn't afford to waste time. Exams were next week and I was already behind schedule.

"Again?"

"Yeah."

The sound of a textbook closing and Naruto shuffling into a standing position could be heard from behind me. His footsteps on the soft carpet became louder, stopping when I felt two warm hands rest on my shoulders, thumbs rubbing comforting circles on my back.

"I think you need a break," came the blondes voice from above me. Feeling slightly irritated at his suggestion, I leaned my neck backwards to look at him standing over me – upside down - and frowned at him. I knew he was only trying to help but…

"No. I need to finish this," I declined, and turned my head back to my work in front of me. Picking up my pen and directing my attention to the paragraph I was last at, I aimed to stay on schedule, in pain or not. I wasn't a baby and I wasn't weak.

Reading over the first sentences a few times; I paused sensing that Naruto hadn't moved from behind me. Persistent bastard. I put my pen down and swiveled my chair to face him, wholly intending to glare at him for his misplaced perseverance but stopped when I saw a frown on his own face and arms crossed over his chest. He meant business.

Feeling uncomfortable at our difference in heights with him standing and me sitting, I mirrored his actions and crossed my own arms over my chest defensively.

"I think you need a break," he repeated, his face serious.

"And I think I just said that I need to finish this," I replied, mimicking his stern tone.

"Yeah well you're going to make yourself sick."

I scowled at his mother-hen antics. What part of _I need to finish this_ was he having trouble understanding? I could see - and _was_ grateful - that he was concerned for me, but I didn't need him to mother me, I needed his understanding. Removing my reading glasses, I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. I didn't need this. I was behind in my work and I needed this time.

"I will be fine." Feeling the stress gather in my neck, the hurting in my head increased. I felt myself growing more agitated; every nerve in my body itched to remove the extra source of irritation as the _throb throb_ in my head actually became audible. He needed to understand so he would _back off_.

"Look, I _have_ to do well, okay? This exam is worth 50 of my entire mark. I _have_ to do well," I repeated, trying hard to keep the anxious tone out of my voice. The last thing I needed was for Naruto to think that I was getting myself worked up and out of hand. I had it under control. I just needed to do this. Really, I was fine. Stressed and worried about my marks, but fine nonetheless.

Taking the square glasses from my hand and setting them gently on the desk, Naruto placed his hands on the armrests on each side of me and inched his face closer to mine until our noses were practically bumping.

"I think you forget whose shirt it was that you vomited on the last time you had a migraine." At this I averted my eyes and tried hopelessly to suppress my reddening complexion at both the embarrassing memory and the blonde's proximity. It was perhaps not my finest moment and it wasn't like I _meant_ to projectile vomit on Naruto.

"You're the smartest person I know. Now stop being dumb and don't make me compliment you again." With this compliment-insult he withdrew his hands from my chair, stepped back and held out an expectant hand. Looking at his face I noted a stern expression I instantly recognized as belonging to Iruka when he expects you to do something.

He probably thought he was being cute. He wasn't. His complete and utter disregard for anything I just said was nothing short of infuriating. But he was in a sense right. But only a little bit. It was true that in my experience, migraines meant debilitating nausea. More than time wasting I didn't need that.

"_Five_ minutes," I chided**, **throwing him a disapproving glare before slapping away his outstretched hand and lifting myself out of the chair. I had a migraine, I wasn't disabled. Stupid idiot. I figured five minutes would be enough time to rest and settle my head down to a dull ache without getting _too much_ off track.

Seeing me stand up and compromise – for five minutes _only_ - Stupid Idiot walked to the other end of my room and drew my curtains closed, blocking off the dying sunlight and plunging the room in darkness. What on earth…?

Watching him with a suspicious expression and an eyebrow raised, the blonde moved from the curtains and towards my (unmade) bed and – wait what. Closed door, shut curtains...bed…?

"We are _not_ having sex."

Leaning over and grabbing one of my pillows from the top of my bed, the blonde teen whirled his head around and gave a confused expression, his nose scrunching up and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Stress less Princess. As sexy as you vomiting on me while we go at it might be, that isn't what I had in mind," he said amusedly**,** looking as if he didn't know whether he should be disgusted or amused by the mental image he gave himself. Straightening his posture and walking over to the centre of the room, pillow in hand. Pausing for a moment, briefly surveying his surroundings, he seemed satisfied with his location and sat on the floor.

He placed the pillow gingerly on his lap, patting it with one hand and looked up at me. He looked incredibly innocent – wide blue eyes, lower lip jutting out slightly, hair ruffled. Some of my irritation subsided at the sight of the boy before me. I knew he was only trying to help – probably while trying to get out of studying at the same time – but helping nonetheless. I would ignore the feminine jibe. For now. He wasn't _that_ cute.

I sighed and tried to let myself calm down, relaxing my body not realizing that I had been so tense. I walked towards the sitting blonde, turned around, sat a couple of feet in front of him, and lowered my body down. My head hit the pillow and I sighed again. This was comfortable and the darkness was like a cocoon, soothing and safe. Although we argued and our views clashed a lot over the years, we somehow managed to find a peaceful middle ground when we needed to. Which is a good thing I suppose, when the last thing you feel like doing is fighting.

Naruto's fingers were at my temples on either side of my head, rubbing gentle circles in a calming massage, softly pressing and - Oh that felt nice. I looked up at my masseur and felt my insides soften at his focused features. Naruto was one of the few people I knew that did things for people because he wanted to, not expecting or wanting anything in return. You don't find many people like that. He was by _no means_ an angel, he was a troublemaker since birth, but he was kind at heart.

Feeling a little bit awkward at my vulnerable position I crossed my ankles and interlocked my fingers, placing them on my chest. I leant back deeper, reveling in the comfort that was provided to my pounding head and sighed. I let my eyes droop closed. I'd known Naruto long enough to know that he was trustworthy when serious.

"Is that helping?"

"Mhmm," I mumbled my affirmation, lulled into a state of relaxation where forming a coherent sentence was too much of an effort.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Mhmm…"

"……Are you feeling asleep on me?"

"Mhmm…"

Hearing a chortle from above me, I opened my eyes and gave a half-hearted glare. I didn't realize how tired I'd been. In this small moment of rest my mind gave my body the opportunity to slow down, making it heavy with fatigue.

"…You're so corny…" I murmured, raising one of my hands and resting it on his knee behind me, maintaining physical contact so he knew I wasn't serious, feeling a bit awkward yes, but not serious. Well not entirely. Naruto could be like a bad soap opera sometimes, but I appreciated it all the same.

"You love it. Bastard," he replied, amusement rippling through his voice.

I snorted in mock ridicule, but said nothing. I didn't feel like quarrelling, especially when those fingers felt so good… arguing took up too much energy anyway. In spite of our banter I did think myself thankful and suddenly felt bad for snapping at him earlier when I knew he was looking out for me.

Feeling both guilty and grateful at the same person, I felt that my emotions were out of balance – I hated that. I wanted to correct it. But I was no good with apologies and forgive me's. I bit the inside of my cheek, suddenly feeling a bit out of whack. We were close friends and he probably knew me well enough to know that I was thankful, but it didn't help my unbalanced emotions.

"…Thanks," I muttered, my voice almost too low for him to hear, sort of hoping that it was. It wasn't often he heard those words come from me, but this time he probably earned it. I again looked up at him, the rarity of my (expressed) gratitude was written all over his face with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. He grinned.

The blonde leaned forward and captured my lips in a chaste, upside down kiss. Gently grabbing a handful of his hair – _just to feel it_- as he did so we stayed like that for a few seconds before I let go and he sat back up. I closed my eyes again and ran a tongue over my lips as the fingers resumed their work, not needing to see the satisfied face that I just _knew_ would be there - he had won and the smug bastard knew it. Even if it wasn't a verbal battle, in the end things turned out just as he had wanted. Not that I minded of course – losing today had its benefits. So maybe we had both won.

Naruto hummed in contentment, moving a hand to run fingers through my hair as he often did in the rare moment when I was docile enough to let him. A motherly gesture I usually hated, but found that at the present moment I was too tired to care. I'd get him back for it later.

"Don't stress too much about the exam okay? You'll be fine."


End file.
